


Jade

by wheel_pen



Series: Loose Gems [20]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Cathay, F/M, Slavery, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3909736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A feisty woman buys a dangerous new toy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jade

**Author's Note:**

> The bad words are censored; that’s just how I do things.   
> Inherent in slavery and other forms of subjugation are dubious consent, unhealthy relationships, and violence.  
> I hope you enjoy this original work, which was inspired by many different stories.   
> I have more stories, as yet untyped, to add here.
> 
> For visual reference, Jade is played by Ewan McGregor.

"Get out! Get out, you sniveling excuse for a slave! If you're lucky I will only sell you in the morning! If you're unlucky I'll beat you first! Get out!" The wild-eyed man scrambled out of the room, backing away respectfully even as he dodged a copper goblet of wine hurled at his head.

"Unhappy with one of your slaves, my dear?"

Mei-Xing spun around to face the new voice in the room, chest still heaving from her fit of fury. Gallios admired her figure in the form-fitting red silk gown--especially the parts highlighted by her rapid breathing--but concealed it as best he could. Madame Mei-Xing was very attractive, but in a dangerous sort of way he preferred not to provoke.

"Useless, they're all useless," she hissed, turning her back to him. She tried to calm herself, irritated that she had lost her temper in front of her host--a man with a tendency towards condescending mockery. She focused her attention on the pair of young women, brightly clad in yellow and blue, who hurried to clean up the spilled wine and remove the dented cup. She knew Gallios was also focused on them--more focused than she wished--but she let it go. As long as she was a guest in his house she let him ogle her servants--but that was as far as her hospitality went. "Only the Lotus Flowers are worth anything at all," she commented in a more reasonable tone.

"But not what you need for _your_ purposes, eh?" Gallios replied with a lascivious smirk. Mei-Xing ignored his remark. Gallios was everything she despised in a wealthy lord--lazy, pretentious, cruel, and lecherous. He almost literally never lifted a finger for himself--she was surprised he bothered to walk into the room instead of being carried by a litter and six attendants—abused his slaves abominably, and thought he was cultured because he threw money at poets who wrote songs praising his generosity. Mei-Xing only dealt with him because he gave her the best price for her dyes in the region--and he had the only house that wasn't a twig hovel. Much as Mei-Xing might lose her temper and yell at her slaves, she rarely followed through on her threats--she preferred to mete out discipline only when it was really needed, instead of when she merely wanted entertainment.

"You know, my dear," Gallios continued amiably, settling himself in a chair to rest up from the long walk from his main chamber, "I've been thinking about your little problem that we discussed at dinner the other night." Mei-Xing rolled her eyes before politely facing her host and wished for about the tenth time that hour she'd kept her mouth shut last night. Gallios's over-inflated opinion of himself would insist he try to find a solution to her problem--and _keep_ trying until she gave in and accepted one. And she certainly hadn't meant to tell _him_ , of all people, about her difficulties in finding pleasing male bedslaves.

"I hope you haven't spent much time on it, sir," she told him cordially, teeth gritting only slightly. "It's really nothing of consequence. I didn't mean to trouble you with it."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, my dear," he insisted, grinning in what he obviously felt was a charming manner. Try as she might, Mei-Xing could only arch an eyebrow in response. After an awkward moment Gallios cleared his throat and continued. "In fact, I think I might have a solution which benefits us both."

Mei-Xing was not surprised to find that Gallios had come up with a solution that at least benefitted himself. "Really," she commented without enthusiasm.

Gallios chuckled condescendingly. "Yes, really," he replied, wagging a fat finger at her. "Now were you or were you not just complaining about bedslaves that were too...docile for your tastes? Too... timid? You wanted someone with a little more... fight in him?"

Mei-Xing did not care for the way he emphasized certain words. "No, that's not really what I said--"

Gallios shrugged in an elaborate gesture of innocence. "Did I misunderstand you, then? I was left with the impression that you were a woman who enjoyed a certain amount of... challenge in the bedroom. A certain amount of resistance. Forgive me for being indelicate about it," he added facetiously, and Mei-Xing tried not to glare at him.

"Not resistance," she insisted. "Not _fight_." She thought about it a moment. "Challenge, maybe."

"Well, then--"

"Passion, that's all I meant," she tried to clarify. Her sweeping gesture encompassed the door her last slave had crawled out. "I'm tired of bedslaves who break and snivel, who have that dead look in their eyes like they're not even here anymore." She shook her head. "It's depressing. It's like they've given up living."

"My dear," Gallios responded casually, "if they haven't given up living, then they haven't given up thinking that someday they won't be a slave anymore. And that's dangerous."

It was the most intelligent thing she had ever heard Gallios say, and for a moment Mei-Xing was shocked into silence. Then she smiled a little bit, the sort of smile that made Gallios squirm in his chair. "I guess I want someone dangerous, then."

The merchant looked considerably less comfortable upon hearing that statement--strange for a man who could be so casually cruel to his slaves, she thought. "Well, you know they say you should be careful what you wish for, my dear," he told her, "because I think I might have just what you're looking for."

Now Mei-Xing was intrigued. "What do you mean?"

Gallios heaved his bulk out of the chair and began walking towards the door. "If you'll follow me to my main chamber, Madame Mei-Xing, I will show you a slave with a well-earned reputation for danger." The younger woman easily caught up with him and impatiently slowed her pace to match his down the marble corridor, several of her Lotus Flower girls trailing behind. "And if you want to take him home, well...I'm sure we can come to an arrangement." Gallios winked at her unpleasantly.

"Any arrangements will have to wait until the slave has been inspected," she reminded him coolly. "I will only pay what he is worth, and no more."

"Oh of course, of course," Gallios agreed, too easily.

They reached the main chamber of Gallios's mansion, a high-ceilinged room of white and gold marble draped in rich purple velvet. And orange silk. And green satin the color of limes. And black and silver brocade. And ten-foot-tall ferns in golden pots, behind each were stationed two guards in bright blue uniforms. Unless they were stationed behind the marble statues, the fat cherub fountains, or the bronze abstract sculptures. The entire effect of the gaudy, cluttered room was demoralizing, Mei-Xing thought, which was probably why all the finely-dressed slaves lolling about it looked positively suicidal. Then again, with a master like Gallios, she decided, no furnishings would be tasteful enough.

The merchant lowered himself into another chair on a raised dais, panting a little from the exertion of walking all that distance. He offered Mei-Xing a pillow on the floor, but she declined, decidedly less out of breath. She was also impatient to see what exactly Gallios thought would be the solution to her problems--if his "dangerous" slave turned out to be merely clumsy, or a half-wit, she was not going to spare him her temper, guest or no guest.

Gallios snapped his fingers and summoned a tall, muscular guard. "Bring me the slave known as the Tiger," he proclaimed grandly. The guard bowed immediately and started to back away, then paused with a confused look on his face.

"Um, excuse me, Master," he began timidly.

"What?" asked Gallios impatiently.

"Which one is the Tiger, sir?"

Mei-Xing bit her lip as Gallios reddened a bit. "You know, the one who always has to be chained. The one I got last month. The blond?" Suddenly clear, the guard nodded eagerly and hurried off. The merchant turned to Mei-Xing with satisfaction. "See? A reputation."

"For being blond."

"That guard's an idiot," he assured her. "And he doesn't usually work in the prison. That's where we have to keep him, you know."

"Keep who?"

"The Tiger, of course!" Gallios explained with exasperation. "The dangerous slave I told you about." He reclined in the chair a bit more. "They call him the Tiger because he has so many stripes on his back--and because he'd love nothing more than to rip out all of our throats." Mei-Xing felt she was supposed to be impressed by this.

"I just won him in a game of chance about a month ago," Gallios continued casually. "He's not really my type, you see, but since I got him for free I thought I might as well try him out." Mei-Xing automatically felt sorry for any slave "tried out" by Gallios. "Took three guards to hold him down," he boasted, "but I had my way with him in the end. But he's too much work for not enough payoff. For you, on the other hand..."

Mei-Xing felt slightly nauseous just imagining Gallios naked, let alone picturing his brutal treatment of a slave. She supposed a truly compassionate person would not own any slaves in the first place--which had never really bothered her--but she drew the line at kicking and screaming. She preferred the long-term triumph of a gentle hand and firm discipline to bring slaves in line. After all, part of her duty as a slave-owner, she felt, was to care for her property responsibly--which Gallios certainly did not do.

She whirled around to face one of the side entrances as a muffled howl filled the air. "That would be the Tiger," Gallios pointed out, feigning boredom. There was a _thunk_ that made Mei-Xing wince and the howling stopped. A moment later two guards visibly strained to drag another man through the door, where two more of their fellows aided them in chaining the shackles around both his wrists and ankles to heavy rings on the floor. Mei-Xing noted that Gallios, in fact, _had_ heavy rings on his floor for just such purposes.

The rings were just close enough together that the man could lie on his stomach almost comfortably, though the cold marble floor and the bindings made any notion of comfort laughable. Mei-Xing approached him slowly, assessing his jerking movements as he tested his range of motion and the tightness of the chains. The guards gave him a wide berth but clustered together warily, spears ready. "Do be careful, my dear," Mei-Xing heard Gallios call to her, but she ignored him, studying the slave.

He wore only a pair of leggings that may once have been off-white but were now irrevocably stained with dirt and grime. His skin was rather filthy, too, but seemed rather paler than those of the locals. And his hair was definitely a golden blond, straggly and uncut, matching his unkempt beard. Even as she came closer Mei-Xing couldn't tell which patches on his arms and back were dirt and which were bruises, although she judged there were plenty of both. Sensing her approach the man tried to face her, but she came from behind and crouched down just where she judged his blind spot to be.

"Where did he come from?" she asked, counting up all the scars he carried.

"The north, somewhere," Gallios told her unhelpfully. "He's been through several masters, as near as I can tell. His former owner was eager to get him off his hands. I'll never play cards with that man again."

"He would be worth more if he were in better condition," she noted critically.

"He's earned every bruise, I'm sure," the merchant sniffed.

"And he's half-starved," she continued, frowning at his too-prominent ribs.

"He'd be twice as dangerous on a full belly," Gallios replied. "You'd be wise to remember that. Your slaves are far too well fed in general, in my opinion."

Mei-Xing started to roll her eyes and was almost caught off guard by the slave's sudden movement as he threw whatever slack his body had in her direction, hoping to knock her over. The guards jumped forward immediately, Gallios cried out in melodramatic horror, and Mei-Xing nimbly avoided the desperate blow. Instead she grabbed the back of the man's neck and squeezed at a certain spot, a certain nerve that had him crying out not in pain but at the terrifying sensation of most of his body going numb. "Hold still," she hissed in his ear, and though she didn't know what language he spoke, she was certain he would understand the message.

Apparently he did because he stopped struggling immediately, and as a reward she released him--and none too soon, she thought, glancing at her now-dirty fingers. "He could really use a bath," she announced, ignoring the looks passed between the guards who had been hoping to spear a little slave today. "And a shave," she added, glancing at the scruffy beard.

"Well, my goodness, my dear, that was very well done," Gallios complimented from his seat safely on the other side of the room. "I nearly jumped out of my skin just then--you must teach me that little trick of yours. It could be very useful."

"It took me years to perfect it," Mei-Xing lied easily, changing position so she could tilt the man's face up to the light. She was about to add another glib remark until she saw the slave's eyes and the words died on her lips. Instead of being dead, like most of the slaves she found, his deep green eyes burned with a fire--of fury, no doubt, but at least there was something _there_. He didn't look like his soul had already departed this world. His eyes seemed to bore right through her and she stared back, enjoying the sensation. She noticed he was also much younger than she had originally thought--not too many years older than she was, most likely, though the beard made it difficult to be precise.

Mei-Xing reached out with her other hand to examine the cut above his eyebrow, a nasty blaze of red that swelled threateningly. He shied away from her touch, but that was probably because it hurt too much. He did _not_ , however, try to bite her or knock her over again, even though her position was more vulnerable to such an attack this time. She knew he was watching her intensely as her hands left his face and drifted down his arms, gently trying to test his strength while avoiding any injuries. She judged him to have always been on the thin side, but wiry instead of gangly, and even half-starved she could feel the muscles coiled beneath her fingers. The only other movement he made was a sudden hiss when she hit a bruise she had mistaken for a patch of dirt.

Finally Mei-Xing stood and assumed an indifferent posture. "Well, I suppose he seems interesting enough," she allowed, "but I really haven't seen him do anything dangerous."

"Why do you think he has all those injuries?" Gallios asked defensively. "Punishments! Self-defense!"

Mei-Xing could think of other explanations but she decided to be prudent for once and not say them. "And he's in terrible shape," she continued.

"Oh, he'll heal up soon enough," the merchant insisted. "And if you think he's too thin, why, a little food would cure that. It's not as if he requires any major alterations."

Mei-Xing shrugged coolly. She had done this enough times to know how to avoid showing how much she wanted to own something. "It's hard to see the potential in him," she lied. "How do I know he's not permanently injured or malnourished? And I haven't even gotten to the most important parts for a bedslave."

"Well roll him over and have a look, then," Gallios snapped. "I'm just trying to do you a favor here, my dear. I could have told you I bought him for an exorbitant price and wanted to make my money back, you know."

"But instead you got him for free, and anything I pay would be profit," she pointed out. His expression was sour. "I could see giving you, maybe...one hundred."

"One hundred!" Gallios was more agitated than Mei-Xing thought he could safely become. "I don't think so! He's worth five hundred at least!"

"Out of the question."

The merchant pursed his lips. "Well fine then. I'll just keep him around a little bit longer. Every once in a while I get in the mood for something a little wild. Guards! Take him away."

Mei-Xing knew better than to look distressed as the guards cautiously moved in to unhook his chains. Even if she lost him now, she was set for a long visit with Gallios. She could come back to him later, appear to reconsider, up the price a little.

She felt the attack coming before it happened--it was exactly what she would have done, had the opportunity presented itself, and she spun around just in time to see the slave jerk free of a guard's careless grip. Swinging his two chained fists together he landed a solid blow to the guard's chin, knocking him backwards, then ducked to avoid the guards behind him long enough to kick one's legs out from under him.

Far from being frightened as the fight continued, Mei-Xing watched in fascination as one malnourished, chained slave managed to hold off four burly guards for all of perhaps thirty seconds, before being tackled to the ground by three fresh recruits. Even then the man was still squirming and struggling, and making progress too, until one of the guards grabbed his arm and twisted it painfully behind his back.

"Stop!" Mei-Xing ordered, shouting to be heard over the man's howls. The guard paused, more startled than obedient. She faced Gallios, who had somehow managed to climb atop the seat of his chair, apparently thinking that would offer him extra protection from marauding slaves. "Sir. I can see that you were correct in your assessment--he _is_ a dangerous slave. I would be willing to increase my offer to...say, two hundred."

At the mention of receiving money Gallios's fears departed. "Four hundred," he countered.

She glanced back at the man still pinned to the floor, seemingly waiting along with everyone else. "Two-fifty."

"Three hundred or I send him back to his cell right now!" Gallios told her.

Mei-Xing tried to make her concession look suitably painful. "I suppose... I suppose he _might_ be worth three hundred. Not now," she added quickly, "but someday."

Gallios's grin was huge, and insufferable. "Think of it as an investment in the future!" he suggested, then glanced doubtfully at his former slave. "That is, if you _have_ much of a future with the Tiger. If he doesn't kill you in the night first."

"What a charming thought, Gallios," Mei-Xing muttered, striding over to her new purchase. "Can I count on you to draw up the bill of sale?" She motioned the guards to back away from the man, which they did only dubiously.

"Of course, my dear," Gallios assured her, adding hesitantly, "Are you sure you don't want a guard or three to see him to your chambers?"

Mei-Xing picked up the trailing chain that led to the slave's wristcuffs as he watched her warily. She gestured for him to stand and he did so, wincing as his freshest injuries pulled. "That depends on how well he obeys his new master," she replied, staring straight at the blond.

As if in defiant response he attempted to jerk the chain out of her hands, but in less than a second she had him on his knees, the chain wrapped around his throat. "Behave yourself, and this won't be necessary," she whispered to the blond, undoing the chain when he stopped struggling.

"Maybe you don't _need_ the guards," Gallios remarked with a touch of admiration.

"But I think they would be appreciated," she told him, enjoying the particularly pale shade he had turned when he saw how expertly she could handle herself. "One more thing," Mei-Xing added, tugging the slave back to his feet. "I'm changing his name. I'm going to call him Jade."

Gallios began to smile condescendingly, then thought better of it. "Of course, Madame. Whatever you would like."

Mei-Xing was just happy he hadn't called her "my dear" again.

**

So he had been sold again. He'd lost count of how many times _that_ had happened over the last couple of years, but he knew the signs. For example, being suddenly dragged out of his cell or corner one day for the Inspection, which usually involved being chained to something since he certainly wasn't going to stand still on his own and let someone paw him. At least this time he'd kept on all the clothes he'd started with, which was a definite improvement.

Sometimes the person doing the inspecting rejected him and it was back to his corner, but more often than not haggling over his price would commence and the new buyer would lead him away in triumph--or unconscious, since he took every chance he saw to fight them, even if he didn't have a clear plan of escape. Even if he didn't know where he would escape _to_.

He did mostly seem to be a slave people wanted to get rid of--he hardly thought that was something to be proud of, although really he hardly thought about it at all. Mostly he tried to concentrate on how much he hated everyone around him and how best he could express that hatred through violence. He'd gotten rather good at it, he thought--good for someone who still hadn't escaped yet, anyway. And even when guards or soldiers or officers were beating on him he tried to pay attention, learn their styles before he passed out.

The really thorough beatings usually occurred early in the relationship with a new master, if it could really be called a relationship. That was when the new owner, eager to try out his purchase at whatever task he'd been bought for, discovered the new purchase was not going to do anything he wanted and was in fact going to attack him at every opportunity. And then the new owner had him beaten.

Some people held out longer than others, of course, but it really didn't take most people long to realize that whatever they'd paid for him was too much and they started looking for an even more gullible buyer to foist him on. That was the only time life was almost bearable, because his owner realized he had whatever value someone else was willing to pay and that the value would only _increase_ as the bruises _decreased_. So then he just sat in his corner, or his room, or his cell, quietly chained up or locked in, being fed regularly if not enough, healing up to present a good appearance to the potential gullible buyer.

He was still debating with himself whether it worked better to lash out in front of the buyer or not. Usually he did it anyway, whenever he could, but he still debated it. If his behavior soured the buyer on him, his master would beat him for driving away a customer--but he would only beat him once. With a new master, the cycle would begin again. The only thing he could count on was his value to someone else, the responsibility they had to look after him the same way they would look after a dog or a piece of land or a bronze sculpture. Even if they decided they didn't want it, they had to keep it looking halfway decent to entice someone else.

At least, that was what he had thought until he had met this man, this Gallios, they called him. Really, he had reflected as his mind swam from various beatings, it was a wonder he hadn't encountered anyone like him before. He was dimly aware there was an entire sector of the slave market devoted to the "rough trade" and he could so easily have ended up in the thick of it. The only theory to explain why he hadn't been sent down that route--at least as near as he could figure--was because it was still disreputable enough to prevent people from openly admitting they participated in it. It all revolved around pride, really--either his unhappy master had to pass himself off as a rough trader to a similarly interested buyer, or he had to admit to the buyer he'd gotten fleeced on his _own_ purchase.

But Gallios was different. The fact that he was won in a game of chance was possibly a determining factor--Gallios didn't shell out any of his own money for him, so he probably felt like if he curled up and died in a corner it wouldn't be too much of a loss. But he suspected there was more to it than that--he was really beginning to believe, just from what he saw and heard when people thought he wasn't watching and listening, that Gallios enjoyed torturing _all_ his slaves, even the ones he paid good money for, which seemed like such a waste. He wasn't into the rough trade, it appeared--Gallios would have dragged him out considerably more often than he had if he really enjoyed the fight--but he found inflicting pain to be, in a word, entertaining. He decided that in his ranking of all his former masters--in descending order of how much he hated them--Gallios was going to get the number one spot, although he had not yet firmed up plans of his perfect revenge fantasy for him.

But of course now he had a new master--mistress, he supposed. He'd never been owned by a woman before. Intellectually it would be interesting to see how that worked logistically, not that he spent a lot of time at intellectual pursuits these days. Of course it was possible the woman was only an agent of the buyer, or intended him for someone else's use, but from her body language during the inspection he thought otherwise.

So he had underestimated her. Attractive young woman--not that he even bothered to notice such things anymore--in a nice dress, who knew she could take him down faster than any guard? And who knew she would still want him after _three_ displays of violence? Well, it wouldn't really surprise him that Gallios would sell him into the rough trade--that man had plenty of pride, but not in the right places.

Still, the way she touched him during the inspection, the way she looked at him and spoke to him--he'd never experienced anything like it before, and that scared him more than anything else. She was almost--gentle. Like she really didn't want to hurt him. Like she cared about what happened to him, in more than just a monetary sense. Unlikely, he knew, but unusual behavior demanded unusual theories. Certainly she could hurt him if she wanted to--that nerve pinch had him still a little shaky, just psychologically--but she always stopped as soon as he obeyed the order she had given. She didn't even hold on just a little bit longer, just to show she could. Of course it didn't matter that he couldn't literally understand the orders she was giving him--he didn't get too many variations and could guess them well enough.

So really he'd been unusually well-behaved, by _his_ standards, anyway. Sure, at the moment he was flanked by two guards, but she was the one holding the chain in front of him, and he thought if he concentrated he could mimic that stranglehold she had done earlier. But for some reason he decided against trying it. They were just walking down a hall, after all. Maybe she would feed him soon. It was always better to be defiant _after_ you'd eaten a few bites, as opposed to before.

The room she led him to was a small but nicely-furnished guest suite, nicely-furnished because at least two-thirds of the usual clutter Gallios insisted upon had been removed. He'd noticed the small crowd of young women following them and there were even more inside, which just added to the feeling of surreality. Maybe he was light-headed from lack of food.

The woman who bought him was younger, too, younger at least than any of his previous owners, with almond-shaped eyes and long, glossy black hair. Not the usual local look, but then neither was he. She was speaking to him now in calm tones, apparently trying different dialects. Finally he picked out some words in a trade dialect he'd occasionally used on expeditions.

"I am your new mistress, Mei-Xing. I have named you Jade." He tried not to show that he understood her, but she picked up on it anyway. "If you are well-behaved, you will be treated well. If you are disobedient, you will be punished," she continued evenly. Standard new owner talk, he supposed--he'd only had a handful of masters he could really understand.

She didn't seem to care about getting a response from him. Instead she gave the guards an order, pointing at his shackles. He recognized one of the guards from the first night Gallios had bought him, and he was at the top of the list of hated people who weren't his former masters. Jade--as if he cared what she intended to call him--made sure to give him the evil eye, no matter how much it might provoke him.

The guards were hesitant about obeying her order, and she didn't care for that. She repeated it, more insistently, and Jade was ready to hop to it himself. If the guards couldn't see the real threat in the way she held her body poised to strike, they weren't worthy of their lofty career title.

Finally a set of keys was produced and a guard crouched down to unlock the chains around his ankles. Jade was half-considering kneeing him in the face, just because he could, but he felt the woman watching him closely and he refrained, if only to defy her expectations. Next came the wristcuffs. He hadn't realized how sore his wrists and ankles had become wearing those things--better than rope, certainly, but still painful. He stood there quietly, rubbing his wrists and pretending to be oblivious to everything around him. The guards, apparently, had some complaint about how the woman was running things. What did _they_ care? Jade wondered--if he stabbed her in the night the mansion's guards would certainly be the first to hunt him down, and he knew they would enjoy that.

Just when everyone had become the tiniest bit more distracted he seized his opportunity and tried out a trick he had learned two masters ago, cracking the guard's nose with the back of his fist. Someone--one of the young women, he thought--landed a kick to his chest that dropped him like a rock and his little rebellion was over, but not before he yanked her mistress down with him. The other guard hefted his spear too suddenly and this time Jade really thought he'd gone too far, because there was no way that spear wasn't going to hit him--until the woman in red threw herself across his chest and deflected the weapon. It was only a glancing blow, really, but the sharp tip left a seam of red down her bare forearm.

The offending guard immediately dropped his weapon with a clatter--injuring guests was surely one of the quickest ways to land on Gallios's list of "entertainers"--but Jade was too shocked to even try for it. She'd protected him. She'd gotten herself injured, if only a little bit, to save him. No one had ever done that before--a slave, even an expensive slave, always hit the line of fire before the master. He was so confused he didn't even bother sitting up to watch her throw the guards out of the room. Besides, that kick had knocked the wind out of him.

Several of the other young women pulled her--Mei-Xing, his new mistress--to her feet and began fussing over her injury, applying herbal salve and a bandage with great efficiency. "Are you alright, Jade?" she asked over her shoulder--again in that calm tone, not an icy one that implied she would beat him for getting her injured.

He climbed slowly to his knees, rubbing his aching chest in an effort to draw the breath back in it. One of the young women--one in green--looked particularly worried, so he surmised she was the one who kicked him. He would have to learn that technique. Mei-Xing apparently assured the woman she wouldn't be punished, which Jade wasn't entirely sure he agreed with, but given the circumstances he supposed he wouldn't add either of them to one of his lists just yet.

After a moment of kneeling quietly and relearning how to breathe, Jade noticed yet another new experience in this day of historic new experiences: he was being ignored, and he wasn't safely chained up. For a moment he was almost put out about it. He was supposed to be all dangerous and scary and violent after all--shouldn't someone be _watching_ him? Then he remembered the kick and the nerve pinch and realized the young women in the room were probably more dangerous than any contingent of guards he'd ever been watched by, so he really didn't have a chance of getting too far. He took the moment to familiarize himself with his surroundings--windows, bed, fireplace, dressing table, another room off to the side.

An item on the table near him caught his eye--a bowl of fruit. Jade's mouth started to water. He had never really been fed _well_ , at least not recently, but Gallios was worse than usual and he probably hadn't seen solid food in three or four days. He got water on most days, sometimes water that tasted kind of funny and had things floating in it which he hoped were only bits of meat or vegetables, but he'd had nothing more substantial. And since nobody seemed to care what he did anyway, he decided to take his meals where he could get them and reached over to snatch an apple out of the bowl.

The sudden movement turned everyone's head towards him, but no one tried to stop him as he sat back and gnawed on the fruit. It tasted so good, so sweet and juicy and firm he felt like he could die a happy man if only he could finish it. It wasn't until one of the young women picked up the fallen spear that Jade realized he'd reached right over it without even noticing. So much for his finely-honed escape skills. Still, he reasoned, one couldn't escape properly if one fainted from hunger on the way out.

Mei-Xing was giving orders now and the women scurried around the room obeying, but he noticed they didn't seem to be working out of fear of their mistress. One of the greatest indicators of the quality of a new master, he had decided, was the behavior of their other slaves. On that note he must have reflected quite poorly on all his masters, so the system wasn't entirely perfect, but the fact that the women laughed and talked to each other as they went through their chores had to mean _something_.

Two of them were dragging out a large metal tub, suitable for bathing, and had begun to fill it with steaming water from kettles above the fireplace. Others were hurrying in and out of the main room, into the hallway of the mansion or into the back room, arranging things on the dressing table, mixing things in bowls, doing other generally bewildering things while he sat there, apparently uninteresting, and ate the apple, core and all.

"Jade." He forgot, that was his new name. Everyone always gave him a new name, like you would a stray dog. Except it would be impossible to ask a stray dog what his _real_ name was. Jade decided he didn't really mind--having a new name helped him to forget there was a time when he _wasn't_ a slave, memories that were far too painful to recall in his present condition. "Come here, Jade."

He stood stiffly and padded across the cold tile floor to the bathtub, where Mei-Xing knelt to test the water. Finding it satisfactory she straightened and continued, "Take off your pants and get in the tub."

He shook his head. Obviously Mei-Xing was not expecting him to resist this seemingly inviting order and she repeated it, more slowly and more intently. His hands went to the waist of his leggings, then he stopped, looked around at the crowded room--he'd counted at least eight separate young women, not including Mei-Xing--and shook his head again. He was not an exhibitionist. He was not going to strip down like an animal in front of them. Not as long as he had a choice, which he admittedly didn't often.

Mei-Xing sighed with exasperation and Jade crossed his arms over his chest to show he wasn't going to budge either. Of course she could easily make him do whatever she wanted, by force, and that scared him a little bit, but if that was the way it had to be, well, that was the way he was used to it. Still staring at him, she spoke in the language she used with her servants, one he had never heard before; two of the women broke off their routines and went into the other room as he watched them with concern. In a moment they returned, toting a large cloth and wood contraption that Jade backed away from quickly. Mei-Xing directed them to set it up in front of the bathtub--it unfolded to a screen that effectively separated the tub from the rest of the room. Then she turned back to Jade, who didn't bother to conceal his open-mouthed surprise--he defied a direct and, for a slave-owner, fairly reasonable order, and instead of beating him into submission, she _accommodated_ him?

"Now take your pants off and get in the tub," Mei-Xing told him one last time, and this time he didn't dare hesitate.

Jade stepped behind the screen, dropped his leggings that were really little more than filthy rags, and carefully slid one foot into the water. It was uncomfortably warm, but he sank the rest of his body into it anyway. He couldn't help the groan that escaped as he leaned back against the metal wall, but even _he_ wasn't sure if it was a good groan or a bad groan. His few inches of undamaged skin, as well as the many scrapes and cuts, were decidedly unhappy to be subjected to water hot enough to make them sting, but his muscles were practically relaxing him into jelly.

Jade tried to remember when the last time he had had a bath was and nothing came to mind--sometimes he was sort of sprayed with water and scrubbed down, usually right before an inspection, but a surprising number of people were totally unconcerned with personal hygiene, either theirs or anyone else's. He had in fact pretty much gotten used to his own amplified smell, but now that it was beginning to flake off into the water he wrinkled his nose at it and wondered how anyone else had stood him.

A feminine hand suddenly reached beneath the screen, snagged the leggings, and dragged them off, to which Jade made a noise of protest. They weren't much--in fact they were disgusting--but they were all he had in the way of clothing. "Those will be burned," Mei-Xing told him decisively from the other side of the screen. "Don't worry, I'll provide you with something else to wear." If he leaned painfully sideways he could just see a sliver of her, now in orange, sitting at her dressing table as her servants clustered around her.

A throat cleared next to him and he turned to see a small hand reaching around the side of the screen, holding out a washcloth and a clump of soap. He sniffed at it and backed away from the pungent odor, wondering what would happen if he just ignored her. Apparently she complained to her mistress, who laughed a little bit--like small bells in a gentle breeze--and asked, "Can you bathe yourself, Jade, or would you like someone to do it for you?" He snorted derisively in response and took the offered items.

She continued speaking as he lathered the cloth up. "You're to give yourself a thorough cleaning, Jade." Now there was a word he didn't like--thorough. It gave every phrase a sinister turn. Thorough cleaning. Thorough beating. Thorough defeat. "Everyone in my household has very high standards of cleanliness," she went on, and he relaxed a little bit, running the cloth gingerly over his skin. Fortunately the soap wasn't stinging him like he had feared it would.

"Be sure to wash your hair, because I'm going to have it cut. And you're going to have a shave." Jade found himself almost looking forward to that--if he recalled correctly he preferred being clean-shaven, but it had been a while since anyone had dared to let a sharp object get that close to him. There was a pause, then Mei-Xing ordered suddenly, "Say something, Jade."

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out--he hadn't used his voice for much but shouting for a long time. Jade cleared his throat, coughed, was glad he didn't have to _watch_ anyone watch him struggle to talk, and finally rasped out, "This soap smells bad." Profound, no, but it was the first thing on his mind.

"It's good for your injuries," she told him lightly. She seemed to be pleased that he _could_ , in fact, speak, which come to think of it he was too. "Did you wash behind your ears?"

Jade frowned. This was all getting a little too strange. "Not yet."

"Use a more respectful tone, Jade," Mei-Xing suggested calmly, and he gave it some thought as he washed behind his ears.

"I just did... Mistress?"

"That's better."

She had to admit she loved the sound of his voice. It was warm and rough, like velvet on the seashore. Mei-Xing wondered if it was normally like that, or if he just hadn't used it in a while. Or perhaps he'd sustained some injury to his vocal cords--she wouldn't be surprised, given the number of bruises he sported. She tried to hold still as Chu-Hua and Lian dressed her long hair into some elaborate style they'd been practicing. Must look her best and most exotic for Gallios's horrible banquet tonight, after all.

She was trying hard to be patient with Jade, but she was not a patient woman by nature. Still she knew it was the only way to win his trust, and it was obvious his trust, along with everything else, had been abused a great deal, and probably not just by Gallios. The scratch on her arm from that idiot guard had been near-perfect, although she certainly couldn't take credit for planning that. And if he didn't want to take his clothes off with nine other people in the room, well, that was understandable. That's what she _had_ a screen for, after all. She smirked just remembering the shocked look on his face when it was brought out and Chu-Hua chided her a little for moving her cheekbones out of the necessary alignment for her cosmetic application. He hadn't attacked anyone for a good ten minutes, however, so she decided she was on the right track.

A short, round, twitchy man was led in from the hall and he bowed nervously, nearly dropping the brown case he carried. Zhen announced him as the barber and he bowed again. Mei-Xing ignored him. "Set up whatever he needs," she told Zhen. "And get a bucket of lukewarm water ready, Yin." Time to give Jade another little test--he'd done so well at ignoring the weapon left on the floor earlier, but perhaps when he wasn't so driven by hunger he would be less reasonable. "Have you washed your hair yet, Jade?" she asked in the northern trade dialect.

She heard the slightest bit of exasperation in his reply, which amused her. "Mostly." Pause. "Mistress." Pause. "But I need--" Nod to Yin, who stepped behind the screen and dumped her bucket of water over his head, then quickly jumped away.

Mei-Xing smiled a touch evilly at her reflection in the mirror as she heard his shout of surprise and protest. "What did you need, Jade?"

"Nothing," he snapped sullenly, then added sneeringly, " _Mistress_."

Mei-Xing didn't care _how_ he said it, as long as he remembered what it meant. Freed from her adorning she rose and picked two colorful towels up from the nearby chair and tossed one around the screen so it hit the tub with a muffled _thunk_. She didn't want him to slip and break his neck on the wet floor, after all. The second towel she draped over the top of the wooden frame. "Come out if you're ready, Jade," she told him. "The barber's here."

She turned to see the dresses Lian held out for her, trying to find one that would make her look elegant without inciting Gallios's lust too much. That was always a tricky proposition. Splashes from behind the screen told her Jade was getting out of the tub, then the second towel disappeared. After giving him a moment to dry off she held a chocolate-brown satin robe just around the corner of the screen, which he took almost immediately. It was probably a little chilly without that layer of dirt he was used to. Finally he poked his head out, almost shyly.

"Done? Good," she commented. "I have to dress for dinner." She tapped a black silk dress and Lian pulled it from the pile. Mei-Xing directed Jade toward the stool Zhen had set up in the middle of the room, on an old cotton sheet, and he approached it warily, though not as warily as the barber approached _him_. Mei-Xing smiled to herself and stepped behind the screen with Lian to put her dress on.

Jade sat down uncomfortably on the stool and amused himself by making the barber cringe even more than he already was. He wasn't a savage--he knew why the man wanted to drape a sheet around his neck. But he wasn't going to make it easy for him. When the barber pulled out the largest, sharpest pair of scissors Jade had ever seen, however, he began to rethink his plan of making the man nervous. He could lose an ear to this.

"How-how do you want it cut, Madame?" the barber asked haltingly. He was only a humble barber, defeater of split ends and repairer of imported wigs, but even _he_ had heard rumors about Madame Mei-Xing and her Lotus Flowers, beautiful young women who could kill a man with one hand. Or something like that. And now that the Tiger, or Jade, or whatever he was called, had joined them--he clanked the scissor blades together nervously, remembering the horror stories Gallios had told him while he cut his hair not two weeks ago.

"Very short in back, I think," Mei-Xing decided. "But longer on top." She wanted something to run her fingers through. "Jade." She switched to the trade dialect. "You will sit very still and let the barber cut your hair, and you will not make any threatening movements or sounds whatsoever. Do you understand?"

Jade rolled his eyes, then quickly glanced around to see if anyone had spotted that. Only the barber, apparently. "Yes, Mistress."

"Barber," she continued in the language of the land, "Jade is going to be completely well-behaved for you because if he doesn't he will be punished severely. You need not be nervous."

"Yes, thank you, Madame." The barber _sounded_ reassured, anyway, and soon all Mei-Xing could hear from the other side of the screen was the sharp _clip-clip_ of the scissor blades.

Jade didn't realize how shaggy he'd gotten until he started to see the blond tangles piling up on the sheet around him. He remembered a couple months ago getting a good chunk hacked off, rather painfully, by a dull knife, but his appearance hadn't been his number one priority for a while. Now, though, he was starting to wish he had a mirror--although he was afraid of what sort of bruised, emaciated, scraggly creature he would see in it, having only the rest of his body to go by.

Once, he reflected as he tried to avoid tormenting the barber, he overheard one slave telling another about a master he'd had who was kind and generous to him during the day, giving him rich foods, fine clothes, and hot baths, only to beat him mercilessly at the least provocation at night. Jade decided he much preferred consistency, either one way or the other, and so far it had been pretty consistently the other. He felt himself becoming dangerously complacent after even an hour in the company of his new mistress, however--if he didn't keep himself honed he would lose his ability to strike back when she finally ceased her patient manner.

The barber finally finished cutting his hair and Jade felt oddly colder--strange how much warmth hair gave a person. He reached up and ran his fingers through it, mussing all the man's painstaking styling, and the short, clean, almost silky strands felt foreign to him. The bangs were too long, though; they fell annoyingly in his eyes, no matter how often he pushed them away.

One of the women brought over a small table and a bowl of water and the barber began to sharpen his razor. Jade glanced around for Mei-Xing, but she was still dressing behind the screen. Ignoring him again. As the barber gingerly approached him, blade shining in the light from the lanterns around the room, Jade decided he wasn't letting anyone--certainly not a man with hands as shaky as the barber's--get that close to him with a sharp object, and with a lightning-quick movement he ripped the razor out of the barber's hand and hurled it across the room. The blade bit deeply into the wooden bedpost with a muffled _thud_ and one of the women gasped in surprise. The blood drained so quickly from the barber's face Jade thought he might pass out, so he threw in a snarl for good measure.

"Um, Madame..." the barber squeaked.

"What is it?" Mei-Xing replied crossly. She _knew_ she could fit into this dress--it was just the extra honey rolls she'd had at lunch making her more full than usual.

"I don't think he wants me to shave him," the man continued in a strangled tone.

Maybe the cloth had somehow shrunk--during the last sponging? Strangled tone--Mei-Xing glanced around the edge of the screen to be sure Jade wasn't _actually_ strangling anyone. No, he was just sitting there quietly, no doubt fixing the barber with a glare of death. "Then let him shave himself, for goodness sake," she snapped, taking a deep breath as Lian maneuvered the last eye-and-hook into place.

Mei-Xing sensed no movement to obey her orders and, exasperated, finally stepped out into the room. "Jade." The blond turned on the stool at the sound of his name, and she swore his eyes widened as he took in her tighter-than-usual black dress. For some reason she considered his reaction a compliment worth not being able to breathe fully. "Is there a problem?"

"No, Mistress," he said innocently. Too innocently.

"I don't like beards," she informed him. "Why do you still have one?"

"The barber lost his razor, Mistress," Jade replied, meeting her skeptical gaze.

"Where did he lose it?" Mei-Xing asked slowly; her tone implied that her patience would be the next thing lost.

Casually Jade turned around in the stool until he was facing the bed, then glanced back at her. Mei-Xing followed his gaze to the bedpost and bit her lip when she saw the razor embedded there. Throwing razor blades around? No wonder the barber was terrified of him. She struggled not to smile--that would only encourage him. Deliberately Mei-Xing walked over to the bed and pried the razor loose, then returned to Jade and paused. It didn't take him long to tense up, no doubt wondering if he'd finally pushed her too far. Instead she folded the blade up and held it out to him.

"You may shave yourself, Jade," she told him, "if you think the razor will not be lost again." Uncertainly he worked a hand out from under the sheet and took the blade from her, still watching to see if it was some sort of trap. "Bring him a mirror," she said to Zhen.

Jade stared down at the razor in his hand, not believing Mei-Xing had really given it to him. And she was still just standing there, well within range--he could really do some damage to her before anyone else stopped him. Slowly she reached out and tipped his chin up, meeting his eyes for a moment before examining the haircut. She smiled a little as she brushed the hair out of his eyes, only to have it fall back again, and she gently ran her fingers through the rest of it. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until she hit a slight swelling and he hissed, trying to remember how old that particular injury was. Really it was almost healed up, which meant he was due for another head injury soon. When he looked back up at her she was frowning. "Get rid of the beard," she repeated, and walked back behind the screen.

Jade turned a smug smile on the barber, who had backed away to the other side of the room. Zhen carefully set up a mirror and handed Jade some more soap, which he worked into a lather over the scraggly beard. As soon as he settled quietly into shaving, the rest of the servants in the room drifted off to their own duties; even the barber began to look a little less nervous. It had been a while since Jade had given himself a proper shave and he wasn't doing a terribly good job of it, he feared--he kept nicking himself every time he hit a bruise along his jaw or neck, not that anyone would notice, he supposed. After a few moments he finished, rinsed his face off, and steeled himself for a look in the mirror. Not... _too_...bad, he decided...maybe. What with the starvation-induced thinness and the dark purplish-brown bruises, you could hardly even _see_ the dozen tiny cuts from the razor.

Jade waited a moment, putting the razor down, brushing his hair back out of his eyes, studying himself in the mirror. No one seemed to take notice of him at all. He glanced around--the women were all either in the other room, behind the screen with Mei-Xing, or working with their backs to him. Not even the barber was keeping an eye on him. Jade pulled the sheet off his shoulders and dropped it on the floor, shivering a little as the cool breeze from the windows slid through the satin robe. He shifted uncomfortably on the stool and turned around to face the rest of the room. Still nothing.

"I'm done," he announced--to no one in particular, it appeared. He heard Mei-Xing's voice behind the screen, conferring with her servants but completely ignoring _him_. He narrowed his eyes, stood, and neatly flipped over the table near him. The heavy wooden furniture crashed to the ground, shattering the mirror into dozens of pieces. The metal bowl dumped its contents all over the floor and skidded under the bed, leaving behind a puddle of soapy water and beard remnants that mixed with the hair already on the floor and soaked the old sheets.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Jade turned back to the rest of the room to find the servants staring at him--a few still wary, most in irritation. Mei-Xing had stopped talking and most of her assistants were peeking out around the screen, but she had not yet appeared herself. Jade growled low in his throat and picked up the stool, intending to hurl it out the window. Surely _that_ would get her attention.

"Jade." His mistress finally appeared, still in that black dress that hugged every curve. And with matching black half-sleeves that concealed the scratch from the guard's spear, an injury he had inadvertently caused. "Put that down."

He set the stool back down gently, elaborately. "I'm done," he repeated innocently.

He looked so much younger without the beard, Mei-Xing noticed--his face was sweet and boyish, and he had a dimple in his chin, right next to yet another swelling bruise. She congratulated herself on picking such a very good-looking young man, even if he had a vile temper. How could someone who was beaten so often become so spoiled?

Mei-Xing drifted closer without speaking and noticed how he tensed, despite his almost cocky posture. The only thing that could be driving him was fear--fear of what she would do when he finally pushed her too far. And fear from not knowing when that would be. Mei-Xing had trained many slaves, even those who thought they were going to be rebellious and strong, but they all broke eventually--none of them were strong enough to be obedient without losing the spark she had chosen them for. But maybe this time...if he didn't get himself killed first.

"Sit." He sat; she noticed the slight wince as he did so. Mei-Xing gently touched his jaw, finding a patch that didn't look injured, and turned his face to see both sides. She allowed herself a small smile of approval, which relaxed him a little. "You're too impatient, Jade," Mei-Xing told him, brushing one of the larger nicks. It was a wonder he hadn't accidentally slit his throat. Suddenly she frowned and tipped his chin all the way up, bending slightly to look at the large bruise that spread across his neck. "How did you get this?" she asked, reaching out to touch the edge of it. The injury was too old for her to have caused it earlier with the chain, but it probably made her action all the more painful.

Jade shook his head, brushing her fingers away, and refused to meet her gaze. He was still working on forgetting what exactly caused that injury--there was no way he was going to explain it to her. Mei-Xing straightened and ran her fingers through his hair again, avoiding the place that had hurt last time. Her touch was very casual, almost idle, as she spoke in her foreign tongue to the servants. The barber fished his razor out of the mess on the floor, bowed nervously, and practically ran out the door, no doubt intent on being a hero in the servants' quarters that night with his tales of terror. Some of the women, who had started mopping up the spilled water, stopped and returned to their previous duties. When Mei-Xing finally stopped petting him and stepped away, Jade actually found himself a little disappointed and immediately chided himself. It was all part of her plan, no doubt.

"You clean up very nicely, Jade," she told him coolly. "And now you can clean up your mess nicely, too," she added, indicating the soggy pile on the floor.

Warily he stood and surveyed the damage. Really, he decided, it was only fair, since he had _made_ the mess--fairness was a good quality, right? He should hope for that in a master, since he had to have one, it seemed. Jade shrugged his agreement and started to reach for the metal bowl.

"Put this on first," Mei-Xing interrupted, holding out a deep blue, shiny pile of fabric one of her servants had handed her. Jade took the material from her and held it up for examination--a robe like the one he was wearing, only shorter, and a pair of leggings. Rather fancy for cleaning floors, he thought, remembering his rough linen leggings he'd gotten...somewhere. Any clothing at all would do, though, he supposed. Jade glanced significantly at the screen, hoping to change behind it, but Mei-Xing merely rolled her eyes. With a glare he turned his back on her and pulled the leggings on underneath his robe. They actually fit rather well, once he pulled the drawstring tight. He dumped the chocolate-brown robe on the floor and slipped the blue one on, then turned around with such a pained expression on his face that Mei-Xing bit her lip struggling not to laugh. The robe's sleeves were at least six inches too long.

"Who was this made for?" he complained petulantly. "A gorilla?"

"Someone can hem that for you later," Mei-Xing assured him as he rolled the sleeves up almost violently. "Don't leave that on the floor."

Exasperated with the silky fabric that wouldn't stay put, Jade snatched up the fallen brown robe, wadded it up, and tossed it on a nearby chair. Mei-Xing tapped her foot impatiently and he sighed, finally folding the robe and placing it back on the chair with exaggerated care.

She seemed satisfied with that and sat back down before her mirror for one of her servants to touch up her cosmetics. Another one handed Jade a rag somewhat disdainfully and he glared at her as he stiffly dropped to his knees and started mopping up the water. It _was_ rather disgusting, with all the soap bubbles and bits of damp hair and beard. Thinking of his own bare feet, Jade carefully collected all the shards of mirror, crawling halfway under the bed to get the last of them. He pushed the table back upright and bundled up the wet sheets, handing them to one of the servants and wiping up the puddle they'd left behind. He smiled a little as he glanced around at the now clean floor--a job well done. And this time Mei-Xing didn't need any prompting to notice.

"Very good, Jade," she told him, slipping into a pair of thick-heeled black shoes. He wondered how she could even walk in them.

Mei-Xing supposed she couldn't possibly delay going to the banquet any longer, no matter how much she wanted to. "You'll come with me to the banquet, Jade," she informed him off-hand, checking herself over in the mirror one last time.

"No." The quiet refusal took her by surprise and she glanced back at him, kneeling on the floor in the ridiculously oversized jacket.

"You will come with me to the banquet and have some dinner," she repeated more forcefully, "or you will stay here and have _no_ dinner."

He opened his mouth to protest indignantly--didn't she realize how long he'd gone without food? The apple he'd snatched had only reminded his body that it had hardly had any proper nutrition for weeks and his stomach pangs were even sharper than they'd been before. One glance at her raised eyebrow, however, told him that his complaints would have no effect. She was giving him a very simple choice--food and an evening no doubt seated near Gallios, or no food and an evening in this room. His stomach contracted painfully, voicing its opinion, but Jade just didn't think he could control himself in the same room with that man. If he wasn't _actually_ able to kill him, he'd certainly try, and he'd only get an execution proceeded by torture out of it. Compared to that, one more evening without food seemed preferable.

"I will stay here," he decided finally, "with no dinner."

Mei-Xing nodded, a little disappointed. "As you wish then," she told him, striding towards the door. She paused before leaving, giving him a warning glance. "You will behave yourself while I am gone, Jade. My servants are fully authorized to punish you if they feel you deserve it."

Jade turned a bit dubiously towards the gaggle of young women left behind. He certainly believed they were capable of disciplining him--but what exactly was their definition of "deserve it"? None of them were smiling evilly at him, though, which he took to be a good sign. He swallowed hard against the sharp contraction in his stomach and nodded his understanding, and with a resigned expression his mistress and three of the other women swept out the door.

Jade looked nervously towards the remaining five servants, who didn't seem to be bothered by his presence at all. If anything they were slightly perturbed as they moved the screen out of the way and attempted to move the tub full of cold, dirty water from his bath. Jade wandered over to help them; it was his mess, after all. They seemed intent on maneuvering it towards one of the windows, which seemed bizarre to him, but he followed their lead. One of them, the oldest one, grabbed a wooden bucket and demonstrated for him how to bail the water out of the tub--out of the tub and through the opened window, where it hit the ground twenty or thirty feet below with a loud splash.

Jade took the bucket from her and leaned outside--the window overlooked the enclosed garden in the center of Gallios's mansion, but the brightly-colored flowers ringing the edges of the building were washed away in the spot right beneath the window, which was nothing more than a large brown puddle. Looking across the garden at other windows, he saw similar puddles and surmised that this was what counted as proper sanitation to Gallios--no wonder this place always smelled funny.

Under careful supervision Jade scooped several bucketfuls of water out of the tub, enough to make it manageable, then he and another woman lifted the tub itself to the edge of the window and poured the water out. When they set it back on the floor they both wrinkled their noses at the layer of dirty left behind in the basin, although Jade was glad that dirt was in the tub and not on him anymore. Another woman toted over a bucket of hot water with a piece of soap floating in it and a rag and began scrubbing off the layer of grime, but Jade quickly knelt and took over the job. None of the women were protesting his help anyway, and the work would hopefully keep him out of trouble--and keep his mind off his growing hunger.

The women drifted off to other tasks as he forced his protesting muscles to clean the metal basin. They folded up the screen and put it away in the back room, carried the pile of Mei-Xing's dresses out, packed up the various cosmetics they had gotten out for the dressing table. Five servants seemed too many for so few tasks, and they had time to laugh and talk to one another as they worked. Jade had the distinct impression they were talking about _him_ , but he ignored it and focused on scrubbing every bit of scum out of the tub. When he had finished rinsing and even drying the basin he sat back on his heels, satisfied with his work, and looked around to see if anyone had noticed.

The women were gathered in the back room, giggling still, and he climbed stiffly to his feet and trotted to the doorway. The room was smaller than the main chamber and packed with cots and trunks and cabinets; no doubt those eight servants were all crammed into there at night. At the moment the women were sitting on the cots or in chairs working on sewing up some more colorful pieces of fabric, but they looked up a bit dubiously when he appeared.

"I'm done," he told them, even though he knew they wouldn't understand. One of the younger girls was apparently instructed to check on his handiwork and she slipped past him with a nervous smile, returning a moment later with a report that was met with approval. Jade crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the oldest woman, who seemed to be in charge, miffed that she doubted him. She smirked in return and made a comment that had the rest of the women snickering. Temper flaring, Jade's eyes began to burn and he swung his arms out, looking wildly for something he could throw or break, but the silky sleeves of the tunic unrolled and flopped at the ends of his arms, making the women laugh even harder.

He was about to lunge towards a pitcher of water on a nearby table when the oldest woman wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes and said his name in a voice that tried to be serious. He paused and stared at her sourly as she spoke and gestured for him to come over and sit on a vacant stool, which he did gingerly and petulantly. She held her arms straight down and he copied her movements. Two of the other women knelt on the floor on either side of him, expertly measuring and marking the deep blue fabric as they determined how much it should be hemmed, and when they had pinned the sleeves back they gently tugged the robe off his shoulders and set to work.

With nothing to do but squirm on the stool Jade was easily bored, and when he was bored he tended to get into trouble. Perhaps sensing this the oldest woman began directing him towards different tasks, though he began to suspect that half of them weren't really even necessary. Still, he changed the satin sheets on Mei-Xing's bed--wondering if he would be wrinkling them in a few hours, and not sure how he felt about that--scrubbed the floor in front of the fireplace, dusted every flat surface in the room (with someone else actually picking up any valuable objects, of course), and helped rearrange some of the cots into a more pleasing configuration. When they were finally done fixing the robe he pulled it back on, grateful for the warmth, and tried to look as though he admired the job they had done.

After a couple hours a couple of Gallios's servants appeared with trays of bread, cheese, fruit, and meat for the women's supper, but Jade refused to even look at it. No supper for him, after all--and he was too tired to try defying Mei-Xing's order.

It didn't take too long for his body to seriously begin shutting down--he had already expended more energy over a longer period of time that day than he had in weeks, and he had little or no fuel to drive himself further. He yawned constantly and began moving more and more slowly. Finally he dropped a bucket of water he was carrying to the window. Unwisely kicking it across the room with a bare foot and a curse, Jade felt hot tears of frustration spring to his eyes and became even angrier that the others would see.

Casting a worried glance at the other women, the oldest instead led him over to the corner nearest the mistress's bed, indicating that he should lie down for a while. Jade was used to sleeping on hard floors, and usually they weren't even this clean, so he curled up facing the wall. Within moments, he was out cold.

The cold, hard floor that was his bed would have kept him from sleeping, if he weren’t so dead tired. At least they let him sleep here, he thought, his mind fuzzy. Some sound had half-awakened him and now he was disoriented, knowing only that he was uncomfortable with hunger and injury. He sensed someone approaching him and tensed. When they touched his shoulder he was ready, spinning over and aiming for where he judged the throat to be. A moment later, his own throat was caught in an iron grip. He blinked his green eyes to focus them and found himself staring into the not-terribly-amused expression of his new mistress.

Jade let go instantly, as did she, and he scrambled back against the wall, his heart in his throat, his mind spinning. She’d only just bought him, she wouldn’t waste her money by killing him just yet, he reasoned, but he was certainly going to get a beating for assaulting her. What kind of a stupid instinct was that anyway, he chided himself. It had never worked before, why did he keep trying it?

Maybe if he tried to placate her—“M-mistress,” he began hesitantly, eyes locked firmly on his own lap.

She sighed heavily and he ventured a glance upward in surprise. She sat on the floor where he’d knocked her, her vivid purple robe revealing one pale, bare shoulder when it had slipped during the struggle. “Are you alright, Jade?”

He was confused—she didn’t sound angry with him. “Mistress?” he queried.

“I shouldn’t have surprised you that way, I’m sorry,” Mei-Xing continued evenly, straightening up. “Are you alright?” She spoke a few words to the women who had come in from the other room, dismissing them. One of them fetched her a blue jar, then hurried back to bed. “Speak, Jade,” she ordered in an irritated tone.

“I, um,” he sputtered, dumb-founded. She was apologizing to _him_? Masters weren’t supposed to do that. “Sorry,” he finally muttered, sounding petulant to his own ears.

“Here,” his mistress continued, handing him the wooden plate she had set on the bedside table before waking him. Jade’s mouth watered at the sight of a chunk of bread, a piece of cheese, and another apple, and without hesitation he snatched them all into his arms, trying to gnaw on all of them at once. “Slow down, Jade,” she told him, “or you’ll choke to death.”


End file.
